


There's A Boy Who Haunts The Lighthouse

by emmbrancsxx0



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:18:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1917834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmbrancsxx0/pseuds/emmbrancsxx0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But, the truth is, the ghost is older than the lighthouse. He roamed the hillside before the structure stood tall and defiant against the darkness. He died long before countries had fleets and navies, long before people thought to take to the water and find new lands. To him, this land is all there is—the green of the hills, the leaves of the trees, and the crisp, clear stars of the winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's A Boy Who Haunts The Lighthouse

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this tumblr post: interbellums.tumblr.com/post/90911466412/there-is-a-girl-who-haunts-that-lighthouse

There’s a boy who haunts the lighthouse.  Alone.

Some say he was a sailor whose boat sunk on a stormy night when the rain came down in sheets and the water towered as high as the cliffs and the fog was like a wall that blocked the lighthouse’s glow.  Others say he was the keeper of the lighthouse who does not know his job is done.  Others still believe he was a traveler who slipped on the rocks and drowned in the waves.

But no one knows for certain.  The lighthouse is too old for anything but legend.  It’s been centuries since it has guided ships to safety.  Its windows are shattered, its brick weatherworn, and its wood rotted and dilapidated.  It’s a good place for a ghost to seek shelter.

But, the truth is, the ghost is older than the lighthouse.  He roamed the hillside before the structure stood tall and defiant against the darkness.  He died long before countries had fleets and navies, long before people thought to take to the water and find new lands.  To him, this land is all there is—the green of the hills, the leaves of the trees, and the crisp, clear stars of the winter.

The light on the top of the tower has long since broken, but sometimes it flickers.  That’s all he can manage, that’s the only sign he can give that—yes—he’s still here.  Sometimes, bold and silly teenagers break into the lighthouse to spend the night on a dare.  None of them ever make it to sunrise.  They run from it first.

But the ghost is not trying to frighten them.  He’s trying to give them a message—a message for one person in particular.

There’s another boy who haunts the lighthouse.  Alone.

He’s made of leathery flesh, solid bone, and the earth’s clay, but no one ever sees him.  The stories of the ghost are more real than he is to the people of the town.  He’s never been in the lighthouse; he’s never been close.  He watches from the opposite bank, from the windows of pubs as the raindrops cascade down the panes and from the winding, damp roads.  Waiting for the flicker of light to become steady.  Waiting for a boat to emerge from the fog.  Waiting.  Always waiting.

If only the teens didn’t run.  If only one stayed, if only one understood the message and passed it on.

_Come to the lighthouse, Merlin.  We can haunt it together._

There’s a boy who haunts the boy who haunts the lighthouse.


End file.
